


(can't keep my) hands to myself

by meerminne



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meerminne/pseuds/meerminne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How does that - doesn't it hurt?" Alex asks. "Doing it like that?" Gally huffs and crosses his arms again, plopping down on the side of his bed - the sheets are messed up, Alex notes with mild hysteria. </p><p>Because Gally had been rubbing his dick all over them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(can't keep my) hands to myself

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: this was titled "masturbation station" in google docs. 
> 
> all my gratitude in the world to [bluejayys](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejayys) for letting me screech at them about gallys and being chill when i sent, frankly, pornographic images in the middle of the day. YOU DA REAL MVP <3 
> 
> title from selena gomez' 'hands to myself' because:  
> /I want it all, I want it all  
> Can't keep my hands to myself  
> I mean I could, but why would I want to?/

He should have knocked.

That was his first mistake in a series of increasingly avoidable mistakes.

 

He definitely should have knocked.

 

*

Brendan's text just says "come over whenever bring pizza *heart eyes emoji*" so Alex thinks he has firm ground to stand on here.

Gally's standing across from him, glaring and flushed. Just in a pair of bright yellow briefs. His eyes are narrowed and arms crossed in righteous indignation like he hadn't just been rutting against the sheets, head tossed back, five minutes ago when Alex had mistakenly walked in on him. He’s still flushed, scarlet bright across the bridge of his nose and cheeks.

Alex is having trouble looking up from the damp patch at the front of Gally's briefs.

"You should have called!" Gally is yelling, arms waving. Nice arms, Alex notes with an alarming amount of sleaze crawling into his inner dialogue. Fuck.

"How does that - doesn't it hurt?" Alex, second mistake, asks. "Doing it like that?" Gally huffs and crosses his arms again, plopping down on the side of his bed - the sheets are messed up, Alex notes with mild hysteria. Because Gally had been rubbing his dick all over them.

Gally yells some more, throws a couple pillows at Alex before Alex gets his wits about him enough to escape to Gally's living room.

"The front door was open! Anyone could have walked in!" Alex shouts backwards.

"Normal people knock, asshole." A shoe hits the couch a good three feet from Alex, bouncing off and rolling uselessly to the floor.

"Same," Alex says.

 

*

 

Alex doesn't forget about it.

(That's his third mistake if you're keeping count.)

(Alex is trying really, really hard not to keep count.)

 

A few weeks later he ends up a little bored and a lot horny, spread across his bed. He stops to think about his choices. Shakes his head and curses Gally. He’s in the same position he’d found Brendan, legs spread and knees braced against the sliding sheets.

He's tilting his hips down into the mattress, dick hard and insistent pressing against his boxers. "What the fuck," he mutters, dragging his palms up next to his shoulders to try to get a better angle.

It doesn't feel awful. It's just not doing much. He feels like maybe it could be a good warm up to the main event if he has the time to drag it out when he jerks off. That seems like a luxury he doesn't often have.

That's when the fourth and perhaps worst mistake happens - he trusted Anna to warn him if anyone was coming over.

Gally opens his bedroom door, "Chuck d'you - " cut off with a choking noise. Gally's standing with the door thrown wide open.

"Shut the fucking door, oh my god." Alex hisses. Gally toes it closed (but doesn't shut his mouth, Alex notes with mild hysteria).

With himself inside. Of course.

Alex looks up from where he's trying to smother himself in his pillow and - Gally is grinning maniacally.

"You _asshole_. You hypocrite. _You_ -" he’s following the finger he’s pointing at Alex and walking closer to the bed, kicking his shoes off. "You totally jerk it like that too."

Alex is shaking his head no, can't seem to actually form words because Gally is sitting next to him on the bed and, what the fuck?

"What?" Alex says dumbly. "No, I. It's not." He lets out a short, frustrated breath.

"Use your words," Brendan unhelpfully supplies, hands placatingly out in front of him. One of them lands hot above Alex’s knee, thumb stroking over silver scars. Alex thinks the siren call of stuffing his head back into his pillows may be overwhelming if Gally keeps being - well, himself.

"Get the fuck out," is what Alex _means_ to say. What comes out of his mouth is much more closely related to a frustrated scream.

He feels the bed dip and shift when Gally scoots closer to him. The fabric of his jeans is rough against Alex’s calf, and Alex can feel the circles of Gally’s thumb slow and the heat of his palm slide up an inch.

He tries shoving the duvet over his face hoping maybe the lack of oxygen will get his dick to go down because Gally snarking at him certainly isn’t. This had best not become a Problem, he thinks.

 _It already is_ , his brain helpfully chirps. Gally grapples the blanket out of his hands and throws it off the bed before putting his hand back on Alex’s thigh, fingers spread.

“It wasn’t working,” Alex says, voice perhaps a bit higher than he’d expected. “The uh,” the gesture to his crotch aborted when he realizes what exactly the fuck he’s about to do. His hand hovers mid-air for a moment between them, still less obvious than how hard his dick is.

“Chucky, are you telling me you gave up?” Alex knows that tone of voice and Gally seriously cannot be - “You were obviously doing it wrong.” Brendan sighs, put upon. One day Alex will not rise to Gally’s chirps.

One day.

“Fuck you, I know how,” he snarls. “And I didn’t _give up_ you walked in.” He feels like he’s constantly reminding Gally of things that have happened in the not so distant past, five minutes ago.

Hands are suddenly on his hip, insistent. “What?” He’s annoyed and kind of upset? He doesn’t know what Gally wants from him, and he still wants to get off.

“Or, I mean,” the hands stop pushing at his hip, fingers instead curling around the curve of the bone in a gentle squeeze. “I could show you again?” Gally slides the palm across Alex’s lower stomach, fingers trailing in the light hair above his waistband, before moving across his own thigh to his fly.

He looks up at to meet Alex’s eyes and sucks half of his upper lip between his teeth. Alex’s mouth feels dry all of a sudden. “Do you want to?” Gally’s head is tilted slightly, a soft smile belying the ridiculously over the top arch of his eyebrow, a clear challenge.

“Do I get to come?” That’s really all Alex cares about. He’d been grinding into the mattress for the better part of twenty minutes trying to get a good rhythm going before being interrupted. Gally nods, pressing the heel of his palm into the ridge of Alex’s hip. “Fine, whatever.”

He flips over. He hears a soft whistle and a “good goddamn” behind him. He rolls his eyes and slaps a hand out, keeps slapping when he finds purchase on Gally’s thigh. “Come on, if you’re so great at this show me.” Gally wheezes out a laugh before flopping next to him on his back, grinning over at where Alex has his head pillowed on an arm.

Gally shimmies his jeans off, leaving hideous purple briefs on. Alex kind of wants to know if this is a thing, but. More importantly, Gally is tugging his shirt off and rolling over, the entire left side of his body warm next to his. He cuddles up and hogs most of the pillow between them.

And, _oh_. He didn’t think this through, obviously. Gally mirrors his position and puts his head in the crook of his folded arm. There’s a _lot_ of eye contact happening.

“I normally start off like this, or sitting up.” Alex watches him with wide eyes as he lifts his hips enough to shove a hand between his dick and the bed. “Mmm.” Alex thinks his face might burn off, his blush feels that hot over his cheeks.

“I like the pressure,” he continues, hips rocking down slowly into his hand. Alex rolls enough to the side that he can put a hand under himself. He draws in a sharp breath at the first real slide of his hand over the sticky fabric covering his cock. Gally sighs and circles his hips, bumping their legs. The soft hairs on the pale skin of his thighs brush against Alex’s. “Feels good,” his eyes close and he bites his lip.

If Alex looks, he can see the muscles moving in Brendan’s arm. He doesn’t try to stop himself from looking, not with this. He soaks up Brendan’s little thrusts that knock their elbows together, the way he rolls his hips and grunts into it. Alex is gripping and releasing the pillowcase in his fist, toes curling for purchase in the sheets as he tries to match Gally’s thrusts. It’s - it’s a lot slower than Alex had thought Brendan would be with himself, more gently teasing.

When Gally lifts his head off the pillow to brace his forehead on his forearm Alex maybe goes a little crazy. He can see Gally’s mouth, lips red and parted, eyes closed and shoulders rolling with his thrusts.

“Fuck,” he says a little reverently. “Fuck.” Gally moves to bite down on his arm and Alex, he flails. That’s the only word for it - he rolls, taking the very important hand off of his dick to grab the back of Gally’s neck, hair soft at the nape of his neck, and when Gally turns his head with a questioning “Mmm?” Alex - stops thinking, for a second -

presses their lips together. Gally’s mouth opens under his, surprised, and Alex touched his tongue over the slick skin.

If pressed, Alex would say that kissing Brendan Gallagher is a similar experience to playing with him on ice. Action first, thought second. Mostly a chirp but - here, now, Gally’s letting go of his own cock, if the goosebumps Alex has from a hand absently running over his side are any indication.

Alex is starting to think maybe he could get Gally to touch his dick, or how he can maneuver to get one of his hands free from where he’s gripping Gally’s ass, one of Gally’s thick thighs riding against his dick, amazing but _not enough_.

He breaks the kiss, Gally whining “No, Chucky, what,” before moaning into the sharp bite at the base of his neck. “I need to come,” Alex whispers, getting the words out through swollen lips. “I need, Gally, please.”

Gally nods, smiling. He puts the side of his nose to Alex’s, going crosseyed, before pulling back and slapping a hand on his hip, pulling him back onto his stomach. “You, down there.”

Alex starts to protest because this isn’t, it’s not enough, _god damnit Gallagher_ \- and Gally straddles his thighs, pressing him into the bed while gripping a shoulder in a firm hand. “Shh, be patient.” Alex keeps muttering under his breath, _fuck off Gally_. Every time he starts to get louder the hand on his shoulder squeezes in warning.

He’s too busy trying to get leverage, stuck between Gally’s stupid strong thighs and his stupid strong arm trapping his shoulders, he isn’t interested in trying to look back at what Gally’s doing. He thinks he has a pretty good idea when he feels a distinctly dick-shaped object tap his ass.

“Brendan,” he complains. “Let me _come_.” Gally drags his dick between Alex’s ass cheeks, stretching the fabric of his underwear. The squeeze on his shoulder, he thinks, is probably unintentional.

“If you let me come on your ass, I’ll blow you.”

That. Is not an entirely unattractive proposition to Alex and he nods frantically, crossing his arms under the pillow. Gally doesn’t sit up, just yanks the fabric down to bare the swell of Alex’s ass. He can feel the rasp of Gally’s knuckles against his skin and has to close his eyes and focus on breathing.

It takes Alex turning his head to the side, chirping, “Let’s _go_ , Gallagher,” and Gally biting out a “Fuck off, Chucky,” before he can feel the head of Gally’s dick pressed to his skin, come dripping into the crease of his ass.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Alex chants. Groaning, Gally lets the vice of his thighs on Alex’s go as he flops to the side. He stares balefully, face and throat flushed. Dick still out and mostly hard. Gally licks his lips and Alex thinks for a second about the mess he’s about to make, but he decides getting Gally’s mouth on his dick is worth doing laundry.

Brendan pinches with the blunt edge of his nails at Alex’s nipples on his way down, Alex not even trying to be polite and grabbing two fistfuls of hair and pushing at his head.

He wraps his red, wide mouth around Alex’s cock and sucks like a _dream_. There’s only wet and heat and the gorgeous pressure of Gally’s tongue around the head of his cock. Alex can only hold out for so long before he’s patting weakly at Gally’s cheek, thighs tensing. “Gonna come,” he pants out. Gally pulls off, hand wrapping around to jerk him through it, come striping over his lips and chin.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Alex moans when Gally fists him to get the last bit of come beading at the tip. “There’s come _everywhere_.”

Gally snorts, licking delicately at the back of his hand. “Yeah, all over my fucking face.”

Alex kicks him and covers them both in the blanket, shoving a corner toward Gally’s face. “I have to do laundry anyway,” he despairs.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm over @ [tumblr](http://meerminne.tumblr.com/) y'all


End file.
